Jackson

At the river park there are geese and ducks and parrots, all talking their morning talk, and an owl with a round white face. Its exquisite flecked and patterned wings are a spread fringe of white and brown. Quietly it lies on the grass, its modest beak closed, with a tall tree above it, a… Read more

the howl of the storm drowns out my tinnitus   between two clouds a wet bird spreads its wings   The second haiku was first published in Creatrix Read more

The underlying thing of that whole thing That’s not for her to letter in It’s out of my price range, lady Tower, like I heard Maybe you were blase But he flew as a criminal It’s interesting, you know The outstanding ant Two parents who are married So he dies on the moors Regular problems… Read more

The long bones of my fingers and the thin skin of their tips and the pink cloth around my pelvis and my knees cold on the floor and the bare face of my belly and my fat nude lips and the plastic christmas conifer and all the things I didn’t like and the noise of… Read more

between the road and the kerb in a cramped tarmac crack, a weed finds itself reaches its dark leaves out (not up) throws yellow petals at the trucks First published in Creatrix Read more

Melbourne 17/9/2011 Bridget says the fog is coming in I’m touched by the road toll something veiled in the distance a spoilt brat raised in the firstworld cot my every shit licked up and praised my every shit an activism my every shit a scar you can breathe to make you sick my sister I… Read more